Slightly Cloudy
by lazupri
Summary: 5x02 Re-imagined. Picking up midway through the episode, Kate doesn't try to shrug off Castle's "date" with the aggressive reporter. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I'm just playing with things that don't belong to me. Again.**

**Summary: 5x02 Re-imagined. Picking up midway through the episode, Kate doesn't try to shrug off Castle's "date" with the aggressive reporter. One-shot.  
**

**Notes: For the record, I totally enjoyed this episode as written. However, I wanted to give slightly more depth to the story than a single episode can provide while still leaving enough unresolved to fit comfortably within canon. Since everyone and their dog already wrote a tag scene for it, I decided to go a different route. Some core elements of the story remain the same. Anything you recognize from the episode (be it dialogue, character or plot point) is, obviously, not mine. **

**And with that… off we go!**

* * *

**Slightly Cloudy**

Kate Beckett, shaken to the core when Castle accepted a date with Kristina "Bikini" Cottera, was still trying to find her footing as they walked into the bullpen together, said man trying valiantly to convince the reeling detective that said date was the answer to their shared dilemma.

His _coup de gr__â__ce_? "I'll take her out to a fancy dinner, someplace romantic where everyone will see us. Maybe even end up on Page Six. How great would that be?"

"That'd be really great," Kate agreed with a hint of forced laughter. She came within a whisper of letting it go, but the nervous twinge in her stomach forced another question past her lips. "You think Page Six will get a shot of you kissing her goodnight?"

Castle, who had been walking beside her, pulled up short.

"Or… oh! Maybe we'll be really lucky and they'll catch you on your walk of shame the next morning! How perfect would that be?" Beckett gushed, all false enthusiasm.

"Whoa! What? No!" exclaimed Castle. "I- I wasn't even going to kiss her, let alone sleep with her! You… I… you _know_ I wouldn't—"

"Yeah, well, I also 'knew' you wouldn't agree to go on a date with her in the first place," Kate huffed in a low voice, "seeing as how we're only _pretending_ to be single. But here we are. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't have a lot of faith in my knowledge base at present."

Castle sighed, regaining some equilibrium. "She put me on the spot on live television. I'd just told half of New York that I was single. I was trying to play the part."

"Right. Because single Richard Castle has never said 'no' to a woman in his life." She jerked her chair out and sat down with a little less grace than she normally did.

"Wow. Okay, look, you're right. I'm sorry," he offered after a beat or two of stunned silence. "I probably should have found a way to decline? I was flustered. I handled it as well as I could in the moment."

He looked at her pleadingly, leaning over into her space. "You don't really think I'm looking forward to this? That I want to go out with her? It's not real, Kate. You must know _that_."

"What I know is you've agreed to spend time with her. You're taking her to a 'romantic' dinner, you'll be with her this evening instead of me. Us. The team," she stammered, gesturing to the relatively empty room around them, trying not to reveal just how jealous she really was. _But then_, she thought, taking in his gobsmacked expression_, if this relationship is going to have a chance, honesty is key. That much I have learned. _

Kate took a deep breath. "She'll be on your arm, at your side, coming on to you, touching you, teasing you. For her, it will be very real. And even if you're not totally receptive to her… _attentions_, you'll still have to play along. You'll be charming and warm and witty and irresistible, and that's real, too, Castle." Kate felt her throat constrict and shoved up from her desk. "I'm getting coffee. Don't follow me."

Castle all but fell into his chair. Kate Beckett was jealous. And not just a little bit, from the sound of it. Part of him—the adolescent part, admittedly—wanted to jump up and do a happy dance at the idea of his inimitable lover going all possessive over him. But he quickly sobered at the thought of her in the break room, making her own coffee, fighting back tears, frustrated at him, herself, their situation in general.

With only a slight moment of hesitation, he pulled out his phone, searched for his most recently added contact and dialed, bracing himself for whatever reaction he would get from the sure-to-be-displeased woman on the other end.

/. . . . /

After a full day of investigative conversations with Rebecca Fog, asthmatic kids and a crooked carpet dealer, the team hunkered down to sort through what they had.

"Wait a minute, Castle," protested Esposito as Rick settled in with them to go through the box of evidence from the carpet factory. "Don't you have a date with Kristina Cottera tonight?"

"Actually, no. I called her earlier, cancelled." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beckett's head snap up at the admission and had to control the urge to usher her out of the room so they could talk in private.

"You cancelled on the Bikini Bombshell? Dude, are you mental?"

Castle glanced around the table. "I… uh… it's bad timing? You know, working the case, didn't want to leave you guys without the benefit of my infallible insight…" he tried to joke. But Ryan and Espo were looking at him like he'd sprouted a third eye and Beckett was staring at the files in front of them, refusing to look at him at all.

He tried another tack. "Plus, I mean, there's a potential conflict of interest, right? She worked with Mandy, too. Maybe she's the mystery partner. Or a suspect, even. Maybe… _maybe_ Kristina was jealous of Mandy's covert relationship with Miles. So she surprises him at his place in all her bikini-clad glory, tries for an exclusive off-the-record interview, Mandy walks in and bam! The rest is history. She and Miles argue, then Kristina and Mandy have it out in the park a couple nights later. And Kristina manages to... come out on top," Castle smirked, hoping his tangent was enough to throw off the astonished detectives.

"On top, huh? You know, you could have had first-hand knowledge of that very thing, bro…" Espo lamented, shaking his head.

"Uh, boys, can we get back to work here? You can take a trip to Fantasyland on your own time."

"Sure, Beckett," said Castle, shooting her a relieved look. "I'll just go pick up dinner? What are you in the mood for?"

She sent him a half-smile. "You seem to be on a roll making good choices tonight, Castle. Why don't you surprise us?"

He paused in the doorway and briefly considered replying to her subtext with some of his own, but the look on her face told him it wasn't necessary. Instead, he just nodded. "Back in a few."

"I'm not sure _I_ trust him," groused Esposito as Castle moved away. "He just blew off a date with Kristina Cottera. You call that a good choice? What single man in his right mind does that?"

"Maybe one that does his thinking with the head on his shoulders. Would that all men were so right-minded," snarked Beckett. "So… let's go through this stuff and see if we can find a potential partner for Ms. Michaels."

"Sure you don't want to wait for Castle? We might make more _headway_ with him here," quipped Ryan, earning glares from the other two detectives at the table. "Right, that was bad, sorry. Who wants the file on Kazoolie?"

/. . . . /

Kate sighed and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. "C'mon guys, let's call it a night."

Ten o'clock had come and gone, and they were no closer to solving the Mandy Michaels murder than they had been three hours before. The fact that they had started entertaining outlandish theories—the latest from Castle, of course, involving the entire news crew, a tangled web of love triangles, quadrangles, and all sorts of other angles, and a sordid ratings ploy—was a testament to how tired they all were.

"I'm already out the door. G'night," Ryan tossed over his shoulder as he high-tailed it out of the bullpen.

"Yeah, me too. See you two in the morning." Esposito stopped to look at Castle and shook his head one more time in consternation. "Kristina Cottera, man."

Rick and Kate watched Espo make his way to the stairs, then turned to face each other.

"You wanna come back to the loft? I've still got the rest of that cheesecake in the fridge," Castle offered quietly, hoping like mad that she would accept his invitation and later, his apology.

"Sure, Castle. I could go for something sweet right about now." She winked at him and he let her walk slightly ahead, watching her hips, mentally kicking himself for ever agreeing to fake-date that insipid reporter. He made an internal vow to make it up to Kate as thoroughly as possible. Multiple times, if she would let him.

/. . . . /

They were in the lobby of his building, waiting for yet another elevator, when her phone rang. She dug it out and winced at the display screen as the doors slid open.

"What's wrong?" asked her partner, concern written across his face.

"Nothing. Just a minor annoyance I haven't yet had a chance to deal with. You go on, I'll be right up."

"Sure?" he asked, loath to part from her. He hadn't been able to touch her all day and he was experiencing some pretty nasty Beckett withdrawals.

"Yeah," she said, leaning forward to kiss him softly. "Two minutes."

And then she was turning away, answering her phone with a no-nonsense clip.

Castle stepped into the elevator and jabbed a finger at the button. As the car bore him upward, he pondered the wording of his apology. By the time he'd arrived at his floor, his thoughts were more happily engaged. Visions of cheesecake, strawberry sauce, Kate, and various combinations of the three swirled in his mind as he stepped off the elevator. But what he found outside his door was enough to make even that lovely train of images come to a screeching halt.

/. . . . /

Beckett swore under her breath as she stepped into the recalled elevator. _Damn arrogant sportscaster. You make your living in front of the camera, and suddenly, what? No one can resist you? 'No' can't possibly mean 'no' anymore? _She'd come close to threatening to shoot him if he called her again. As it was, she'd dropped the words "restraining order" into her last sentence before hanging up. Hopefully, that would be enough to deter him.

The elevator slowed, the doors swooshed open and Kate made her way down the hallway to find… Castle and a nearly-naked woman stumbling back against the still-locked front door?

His impassioned admirer was bare, save for a bright pink bikini. Her legs were wrapped around his abdomen, her forearms on his shoulders, her breasts level with his….

Oh, hell no.

"Castle? Everything under control here?"

Rick, who had been trying to disengage the overly-amorous entertainment reporter without actually touching her, stiffened at the tone of his partner's voice. _Frozen Heat indeed, _he thought inanely. _How deliciously apropos._

Kristina exhaled with a long-suffering sigh and let her body slide down the writer's, quirking an eyebrow coquettishly before turning to face the woman who stood ten feet away, hands on her hips, looking like she'd be more than happy to use the gun the reporter knew she carried.

"Just getting a leg up in the race for our handsome author's affections," she explained, though Beckett had yet to address her. "You wouldn't happen to be my competition, would you?"

"What I am is the lead detective in the investigation of the murder of one of your colleagues, Ms. Cottera. Unless there's something you'd like to confess _pertaining to the Mandy Michaels case_," she specified cuttingly, "I'd suggest you put your legs to use elsewhere. My partner and I have suspects and motives to discuss."

Rick winced at the bite in her voice, and remained miserably—but wisely—silent, his hands jammed into his pockets, coral lipstick smeared on his cheek.

"Your 'partner'?" parried the reporter. "That's intriguing. And you discuss murders after midnight in the privacy of his home? How… unorthodox," Kristina deadpanned before shifting deeper into journalist mode.

"Tell me, Detective Beckett, what's it like to be the inspiration for a steamy murder mystery series? Does Mr. Castle seek your particular brand of expertise for _every_ scene he writes?" When Kate didn't respond to the gibe, Kristina goaded her further. "Mr. Castle has followed you for a number of years now. A very dedicated, very… hands-on researcher by all indications. Would you agree with that assessment?" Another beat of silence. "He's not a cop, yet you refer to him as your partner. He must be embedded very deeply to merit that distinction."

Rick eyes were dinner plates, Kate's were slits. Kristina's false laughter echoed in the hallway before she addressed the woman across from her again. She didn't think the detective seriously considered her a suspect, but the lady did have a badge—and likely a grudge, now. Best to nip any suspicion in the bud.

"What would I possibly have to confess? I didn't know Mandy very well. I saw her at the station most evenings, but we rarely talked. We had nothing in common."

"Not even men?" asked Beckett speculatively, her jaw still tight with controlled fury. Rick's eyebrows shot into his hairline. He'd only spun that story earlier to distract the boys. But she was using it. Surely she didn't think….

Kristina bent to pick up the dress she'd unceremoniously dropped before attempting to scale Mount Castle. "From what I heard, she was dating a married baller. Not the way I roll. I usually go for classy, _single_ men, Detective."

"Like… Miles Braxton?"

"Did you miss the part where I said 'classy'?" Kristina pouted, but then rolled her eyes in silent admission. "We didn't hook up, though. I was the wrong gender. Totally misread that one."

Castle and Beckett exchanged a look as the reporter slipped back into her dress with an air of nonchalance. "Are you implying that Mr. Braxton is gay?"

"Not implying. Firmly stating. Closeted, but yes, definitely gay."

"And you're certain of this… how?" Castle asked, finally finding his voice.

Kristina ran a finger down the line of buttons on his shirt. "Straight men can _never_ resist me for long, Ricky."

"Maybe he was already in a relationship with someone, say Ms. Michaels," Beckett challenged hotly, "and for _that_ reason didn't appreciate your advances."

The reporter dropped her hand from Castle's chest and smirked at the detective. "Yeah, that's what I thought at first, too. Not Mandy, necessarily, but another woman. Didn't think it was _likely_—even the ones that are spoken for generally aren't opposed to a little roll in the hay—but I wanted to know for sure. Chalk that up to the reporter in me." Kristina glanced back and forth between the two people on either side of her, both now standing with arms crossed over their chests, looking very much like two bookends. Two edgy bookends.

"I followed Miles after work one night," she admitted with a shrug. "I stuck around long enough to see him in some serious lip lock with another guy. That was all the proof I needed. Now, I think I'll just excuse myself. I'm sure you two have important work to do," Kristina said, sarcastic tone set on maximum.

"But feel free to call me if you need help with any of the harder stuff, Ricky."

Castle closed his eyes and hoped that when Kate killed him, she would do so quickly.

/. . . . /

"Would it be morbid of me to ask how you're planning to dispose of my body?" asked Rick as soon as the front door shut behind them.

"Not as morbid as some of the scenarios I've actually envisioned, I assure you."

"Kate—"

"Castle," she interrupted, "just grab the cheesecake and meet me on the couch in five. I want to get out of these clothes and collect myself a little. Then we'll talk, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you need. Do you want wine or…?"

"That's fine. I'll be out in a few minutes."

He watched her make her way to the bedroom and heaved a sigh of relief. If she was changing, that likely meant that she was staying. And if she was staying, it meant that she could still stand the sight of him.

"Oh, and Castle," Kate called from the doorway, "Think you might do something about the lipstick all over your face before I get back?"

Or maybe she couldn't. Rick cursed, grabbed a kitchen towel and began to scrub.

While in the hallway, an inner voice had kept insisting to him that Kate was a reasonable woman and that she wouldn't hold Kristina's attempt at seduction against him. But another (decidedly less optimistic) voice repeatedly chimed in to remind him that half the murders they'd investigated in the last few years had been crimes of passion of one sort or another where, with the proper inducement, reasonableness had flown right out the window. He couldn't help thinking that seeing another woman stuffing her boobs in his face just might be sufficient provocation for a certain homicide detective to pull the trigger. Placating her might take some work.

Thank God he still had that cheesecake.

When she joined him on the couch a few minutes later, tension of another sort coiled in his belly. She was wearing one of his white dress shirts again. And nothing else? Oh, man.

"I'm wearing panties, Castle," Kate admonished after correctly interpreting his heated stare.

"Great! Because that scrap of lace makes it so much easier to concentrate on the task at hand," he said dazedly. He knew she wanted to discuss what Kristina had said about Miles, but damn if the sight of his lover lounging in his shirt—and _almost_ nothing else—wasn't a nearly insurmountable distraction.

"Focus, Castle, or I'll go put my own clothes back on."

"No need to resort to extreme measures. I'm here. Focused."

"So, you think Miles lied about being in a relationship with Mandy?" she asked before moaning over a bite of strawberry-covered heaven. Castle gulped.

Beckett slowed raised an eyebrow. _Well?_

"What? Oh… yeah! I told you. I'm focused." He nodded emphatically, showing her she had his full attention.

She rolled her eyes. "Glad to hear it. Now you want to answer the question I actually asked?"

"Um. Oh, Mandy and Miles," he managed, his brain slowly beginning to engage. "Well, Miles could be bi and not dating exclusively. But that seems a little far-fetched, doesn't it? More likely, he lied to us to cover up the real reason for his fight with Mandy."

"_He_'s the mystery partner," Kate broke in. "Mandy starts the investigation, but realizes she needs help. She knows Miles is desperate for a big exclusive, figures she can use that to her advantage. She cuts him in on the story. But after they get the dirt on Kazoolie, they disagree on the rights to the exclusive. Or maybe on how to go public with it, whom to tell. "

"Right. He said he still had a shot at a national news desk. He'd need to break a big one for that to happen. But he finds out Mandy is in contact with the EPA. If she hands them the evidence, Miles loses his exclusive and his shot at promotion. So he makes sure she doesn't slip them the information. He plugs the imminent leak."

Kate nodded, adding that they'd go for a warrant to search Braxton's apartment in the morning.

They finished their dessert in relative silence.

Castle rose and took their plates and glasses to the kitchen, then returned to the couch. She had sat down on the opposite end from him earlier, but she seemed comfortable with his presence, so he lowered himself to the space directly beside her.

Which caused her to spring up and away from him almost immediately. So much for proximity.

Then Rick was on his feet, too, spluttering an apology while she twisted her hands together and frowned.

"It's not… I don't… I can smell her perfume," Kate finally stammered out with a grimace.

"Oh. Oh, god, I'm sorry. I'll just…" and he motioned toward the bedroom, already working on his buttons. "In fact, I can take a quick shower?"

She merely nodded.

While Castle scoured away every trace of his encounter with the overzealous reporter, Kate brushed her teeth, washed her face and crawled into bed. She wasn't sure what she had expected when she'd insisted that they appear single in public, but this sure as hell wasn't it.

Kate understood why he'd accepted the date—sort of—and she had more or less forgiven him for it after he cancelled on Cottera, but it still stung. Did he really think she'd be okay with him "dating" other women, even if just for show? Which it most definitely was. Right?

Would he have been fine with her agreeing to go out with Chip the Drip just to keep up appearances? She thought not. Still, the petty part of her wanted to ask him if he would mind anyway, just to get him to react, to feel the jealousy she'd been wrestling with all day.

But then Rick was there with her, sliding beneath the sheets, blessedly smelling of nothing but soap and Castle, and all she wanted was to sort this out, talk it through and just _be_ with him without thoughts of anyone else hovering around the edges or anywhere in between.

"Hey," he whispered after settling on his side facing her but not touching, hopeful because she was here in his bed, but unsure because, well, he'd just had to take an inordinate amount of time to scrub away the evidence of another woman draped all over him, hadn't he? Not the conclusion to his evening that he'd anticipated.

Of course, if things had gone as he originally planned, would it have ended up much differently? He'd have walked Kristina to her door, and she'd have… been content with a polite handshake? Yeah, so not. He'd probably still have ended up with lipstick on his face and musky perfume on his clothes and skin, and… God, he was an idiot.

"Hi," she replied softly, as she read the uncertainty and, ultimately, the regret on his features.

The bedside lamp was still on and after taking a few moments to stare at the beautiful—albeit obviously tired—woman beside him, he turned to extinguish the glow. She reached out, intending to suggest he leave it on for a minute, but then drew her hand back. Kate was comfortable with Castle, trusted him more than she'd ever trusted anyone, but this tier of their relationship was so new, and some conversations were just easier to have in the dark.

When her eyes had adjusted and she could somewhat make out his own, she scooted a bit closer and traced a finger down his cheek. "Are you awake enough to talk for a minute?"

"I'm awake, Kate," he said, somehow sounding resigned and determined at the same time. "You didn't really think I'd go to sleep without apologizing, did you?"

She sighed. "I'm not looking for an apology, Castle. But I would appreciate an explanation. I keep thinking I understand why you agreed to go out with her, but… no. I mean, I know I said we need to act single, but I so didn't mean we should date other people to sell it. "

"I know, I get that now. But it's a little more difficult for me than for you. I'm a public figure, I get media attention. My name is like a brand and there are expectations that come with it. It's going to take some practice, figuring out how to play 'fake-single Richard Castle.'"

"But you've already been 'single Richard Castle' for a while now. You didn't really date all that much in the past year," Kate interjected quietly.

"You're right, I didn't. Was kind of busy waiting for the right girl," he said, and she responded to the smile in his voice with a soft one of her own. "Look, on paper, there's not much of a difference between the two. But in my head, I… it _is _different. I felt like I had to go above and beyond to protect us, our privacy, and I got caught up in 'selling it,' as you put it. I didn't think it all the way through."

"Okay," Kate accepted. "And the next time someone comes on to you? Will you be able to 'think it through' then?"

"I know it's not an excuse, but it was a unique situation. I was on live T.V. with an entertainment reporter who, incidentally, just uncovered the double life of the last man who spurned her advances. You think she wouldn't have come after me with ten times the scrutiny had I turned her down in front of millions right after telling her I was single?"

Kate digested that for a minute, then forced lightness into her next words. "Speaking of which, she did come after you, didn't she? She shimmied up you like you were her own personal stripper pole. You're a strong guy, Castle," she added, poking playfully, but forcefully, at his bicep."You couldn't have stopped her?"

"She took me by surprise. I didn't expect her to take a flying leap into my arms. And once she was there, there was nowhere I could put my hands without touching bare skin or something even more inappropriate. " Rick reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Kate's ear, let his fingertips drift over her jaw, caress her neck, dip inside the shirt she was still wearing to trace a line to her shoulder.

"I'm glad you showed up when you did," he admitted.

"Well, that makes one of us. For my part, I could really do without the mental image—" Kate broke off abruptly, swallowing a gasp. While she normally enjoyed her body's response to him, loved that he could elicit such desire from her with only a look or the ghost of a touch, sometimes it was more of a hindrance than a blessing.

Kate reached up and caught his hand in her own, stilling his exploration. He wasn't deliberately trying to distract her, she knew. He'd been touching her collar bone when she reacted, for god's sake. But they needed to finish this conversation and that wasn't going to happen if she couldn't think of anything beyond where she wanted his hand to go next.

"I didn't like it, Castle," Kate said, quietly. "The thought of you with someone else… I don't like it. I don't like thinking about it, and I definitely don't like seeing it. Just… just don't."

The last came out in a harsh whisper and Castle wasn't sure if it was a repetition of her admission or a plea to him. It was probably both.

"I know. I understand. I'm sorry, Kate, truly. And I won't." He moved closer, rested his forehead against hers. "I promise, I won't."

They lay there quietly for what might have been forever, each thinking about the last couple of days and weeks and months and years, where they were, _what_ they were, how far they'd come, where they wanted to be and how to get there. Everything was jumbled and confused and new, but steady and clear and so achingly familiar, all at the same time. If they could just find their way together, navigate just a little further without breaking each other too much more… oh, they could so have this.

Kate finally took a cleansing breath and nudged Castle's nose with her own. "So just so we're clear—in the future, should someone ask either of us out, whether on camera or in a deserted alley, the answer is 'No.' Single, yes, but 'not interested, so sorry, best of luck with the next guy.' Right?"

"Right. Yeah, absolutely, I can do that," he agreed immediately.

"Good. Because Castle?" she growled as she closed what infinitesimal distance remained between them, bringing her mouth to rest ever so slightly against his, "I've got a gun. And I say for the foreseeable future, the _only_ boobs in your face damn well better be mine."

"You are the law," he nodded sagely. "Got it."

She kissed his grin, even as he hauled her over to lie on top of him, his fingers sliding under the billowy shirt, bunching it as his hands traveled north, slowly lifting it over her head.

"Being a little presumptuous now, all things considered, aren't you, Castle?"

"I happen to have a vested interest in following your orders, Beckett. Wouldn't want _this_ to get itchy," he teased, drawing her trigger finger into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before placing a kiss on the tip. "Also, you may not have noticed, but I _am_ rather a fan of law enforcement."

"There's a former police horse out there somewhere who might take issue with that statement," she intoned, running a hand into his hair, smiling as she kissed a sensitive spot beneath his jaw.

"Ah, well… I admit, I have a checkered past. But I lie here beneath you tonight a reformed man."

Kate didn't quite stifle a giggle. "I see. I believe, then, the next logical step would be to make amends for past transgressions."

"I should do that, yes. I'll need a trusted officer of the law to bear witness to my efforts."

This time Beckett's chortle went unchecked. She shimmied out of her lacy underwear and straddled his hips, a challenge in her eyes. "Okay, Castle, you've got your bare witness. Impress me."

"Yes, Detective," Rick said on a laugh.

And he did.

* * *

A/N: This is my first fic, so constructive criticism is more than welcome. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for giving it a try!


End file.
